Caged and Reborn
by Lex Noctis
Summary: Realizing her mistakes and accepting her fate was the only choice for Kuvira. Solitude and loneliness was to be her penance, but future can be treacherous, changing on a dime. The path to redemption is a long and hard one, yet her hope for change had been ignited by the Avatar herself. (Kovirasami, post-Book 4)
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Caged and Reborn.

**Fandom:** The Legend of Korra.

**Spoilers: **The whole series. (Duh)

**Pairing: **Korra / Asami Sato, Kuvira / Korra, eventually Korra / Kuvira / Asami.

**Warnings: **Angst, terrible nightmares and soul searching, thus detailed, but non-explicit descriptions of violence. WIP, read warnings for future chapters.

**AN: ** So, I could not help myself. This is the story of how Kuvira, formerly known as The Great Uniter, had earned her redemption and grew closed to her savior, the Avatar Korra and subsequently her wife Asami. It is that kind of a story. How will it come about, will it be just an "arrangement" or something far more? Well, that would be telling.

Kuvira will have to spend a long time in prison. A long, long time. She will have to redeem herself and earn her freedom. In the meanwhile she will have visitors, things will happen. The journey to redemption will take a long time and require much selfless sacrifice, but I'm such a sucker for redemption story, I could not resist. This tale will be spanning over two decades by my estimates. Expect several twists, familiar faces to appear, but most of this story will simply follow Kuvira with her POV. I will most definitely expand on her back story and why exactly she did a 180 in the finale. Hopefully, this setup is intriguing enough to keep your interest until things really get going.

Coverart is done by the amazing **nikkipet **on tumblr. Her comic about Korra visiting Kuvira in her prison had partially inspired me tow write this.

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><p><strong>Caged and Reborn<strong>

Chapter One

_Imprisoned, Day Eleven. _

High in the valleys above the Republic City, the City still recovering from the recent tragic events, among the high altitudes one mountain ridge was hollow. Within the monolithic rock formation was an old structure, old by the count of the people who lived here now, old by the count of the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom that preceded it. It was old even by the Avatar standards for it was one of the oldest secret hideouts of the White Lotus. The structure well hidden under the surface was converted into one of most highly guarded prisons. It only ever housed a few prisoners, no more than one every hundred years. This time around it had two.

One of the huge halls was outfitted with fairly specific accommodations. In the very middle of it stood a little wooden cabin. Her new home – one room, only enough space to pace five steps in any direction – was all build out of dark red wood planks. Below – a plate of pure platinum, around the little box – a huge cage made of the same metal. One way in and no way out.

The cell she was put it was decent enough, she was used to austere conditions. One bed, a table, two chairs, some simple shelves for bare necessities, a few books and one light crystal encased in platinum. There were no extra windows or holes for the guards to watch her. She could not have escaped even if she wanted to. At least a prison like this afforded some privacy.

The raven haired woman was doing push ups. Her legs were firmly placed at the edge of the bed and her fists lay resolutely against the polished wood of the floor. Exercise gave her release. One, two, three-four. Her arms were covered with beads of sweat, muscles ached, but she did not stop. Her sleeveless white top was getting more damp. The gray jacket of the prison uniform was draped on the back of the chair. One-two, three-four. The strain in her biceps and wrists was starting to get too much. The former soldier groaned and smoothly flipped to her feet.

Her hands grabbed a cloth from the bed running it up and down her open arms. She then draped it over her neck massaging it for a while. Finally the woman grabbed the ends of the cloth with her aching hands. She groaned again. This was her penance. Whether it was intended or not, her rash, unreasonable quest had brought enough suffering to the world. To the people she only wanted to protect. To be dropped at the bottom of a well, in the darkest, most deserted corner of the world was the proper punishment. Perhaps, even too kind. Maybe, the Avatar had had a hand in that decision. Hopefully, in a long, long time they will all forget about her. In a long time no one will remember. She will live the rest of her days here, away from everything. Some day, perhaps, some day, the mistakes and failure won't haunt the woman who used to be a soldier anymore.

She slumped against a wall feeling the wood more acutely than ever. A hollow smile crept onto her face. She very much doubted it will ever hurt any less. It was her responsibility, her duty to save her people, not to oppress them! She became exactly what she had feared and hated the most, what she wanted to protect them from. That realization hurt more than she could have imagined. And it was supposed to. She will have to live however long she had left with the pain of what she had done. Alone, in this hypocritically cozy cage.

Kuvira shuddered and slid down the wall. Her face averted to the small barred window in the wall. Unseeing eyes traveled over it pained with the memories she did not want to, but needed to have. Her face once full of determination was empty and gaunt. She rested her arms on her knees and sighed heavily.

_This_ was her penance.

**. . . **

_Imprisoned, Day Nineteen._

The very first time she visited Kuvira could not fathom it. She had so many questions. Why did she come? Why would she? Did she want to interrogate her? Was the punishment changed? What happened to the City? Her army? What did Su think of her now? Just how many people did she hurt? She did not utter a word watching the woman standing the in the doorway to her cabin in bewilderment. What could she possibly say to the most powerful being in the world, the woman who saved her even though she had all the reasons not to?

The Avatar took a look around the room. Her blue eyes lingered on the books, the small barred window opposite the wall. Then she looked the prisoner up and down. Kuvira knew she seemed different. Her ostentatious attire and metal armor were gone. Her hair was once again tied in a long braid that lay freely on the side of her chest. Baggy gray pants and white sleeveless top of the prison uniform actually reminded her of the happier times back in Zaofu. With the bindings on her wrists and ankles it was so much alike her rehearsal outfit. Come to think of it, that was the first time they have met.

Korra bobbed on her toes not stepping over the threshold. Somehow for the all-powerful being she knew this woman to be, the Avatar seemed down to earth, calm, but full of energy. Korra cleared her throat and spoke first.

"Hello. How have they been treating you?"

What? Why? Was that concern in her voice? How could she still be like that? The dark haired woman shifted closer to the the wall opposite the door. She averted her eyes not wiling to look at the Avatar anymore.

"It's... fine. I'm used to this. The food is decent and the guards don't bother me. No one bothers me."

The silence that followed should have been tense, deafening, but it was not. It was just... there. Kuvira chanced a glance at the visiting woman. Korra was slightly leaning against the door frame. She was deep in thought for some reason. Strange place to be thoughtful. Then as if shaking off some good, but unwanted memory she turned to face the former soldier again. The clear blue eyes caught the sight of her worn out knuckles, the callouses and bruises from doing push ups and punching the wooden walls on and on. Kuvira felt the gaze and hid her hands behind her back. The corner of Korra's mouth twitched up.

"I have brought tea. We can have some and talk. If you'd like."

Kuvira did not know what made her do what she did. It was an involuntary reaction. Something she was never known for. Always steady, calm and collected. But this time she nodded out of the blue and slid down on one of the chairs. Her shoulders slumped and she reflectively just decided to let it go. The fight had already been done, the force and determination beaten out of her. Whatever the Avatar wanted, it was her right. Kuvira sighed while the water tribe woman busied herself with the small kettle and the wooden teacups. She heated up the kettle with her firebending. Why did the guards allow her to bring this thing in here? Kuvira chuckled lightly to her own thoughts. She was having tea with _the Avatar_, who would be crazy enough to think she could use it to escape?

The tea stood on the table brewing. Both women settled into the calm, nonthreatening, maybe even slightly sad silence. Kuvira was looking down into her empty cup. No doubt the eyes of the Avatar were on her. The words came out on their own. She suspected that the answer would only hurt, but she needed to know at least that.

"Why have you come here, Avatar?"

"To see how you are doing. To offer some tea. A friend of my assured me that tea helps to sooth the soul. I don't know much about that, but this is Ginseng tea, I'm told it's one of the best, I hope you like it."

And yet again Kuvira was at a loss. The same way she was during their long talk in the Spirit World. Korra was a mystery. On one side the Avatar seemingly did not want anything from her. No revenge, no admittance of her mistakes, her guilt, nothing of the sorts. On the other – she clearly wanted to have a connection. There was an understanding in her eyes, just like before. Understanding and... relation? None of it made any sense. Kuvira frowned watching the hot puffs of smoke come up from the kettle.

"I have accepted my punishment. There is no need to check up on me, Avatar. I will not make any attempts to escape. I have sealed my own fate and I will live with the consequences."

The kettle whistled. Korra stopped the small flame that was dancing below it. She carefully took the pot and poured steaming tea into two cups. She settled back in her chair cradling the cup in her palms. Korra blew on the tea. Once, twice. Then she sipped a bit. The corners of her mouth twitched.

"You should try it before it gets cold. He was right, it is delicious."

Kuvira sighed and picked up her cup. The aroma was very nice. It reminded her of the bushy gardens outside Zaofu. She used to visit the gardens with her brothers, the twins and they would... Well, no, those two were not her brothers. Not then, not now. Just like Su was never really... She squinted and took a sip. Hot liquid rolled on her tongue then slipped down her throat. It was like a clearing, exhilarating force cleansing her mind and untangling the knots in her muscles. She chuckled. What would you know... The tea was good for soothing the broken and damned. Perhaps, the Avatar should have given her the beverage earlier. About two years ago would do.

The former soldier glanced at the woman opposite again. She sat in complete silence for a while only sipping her tea occasionally. Korra was the same as in the Spirit World, but so different from the shell she defeated at the gates of her hometown. She got lucky. The Avatar was not herself back then. Now she exuded confidence. It's like she had found inner piece Aiwei loved to go on and on about. Suddenly Korra spoke. Her voice was leveled, reminiscent and the words were ringing in Kuvira's ears.

"When I was younger I thought that being the Avatar was all about fighting the bad guys. I was more like you. Rash, headstrong, open to only one way I could see to do good. I was blinded by my own good intentions. Punishing evils, saving the world, that was the only way. But I was wrong. It is not at all like that. The Avatar is the beacon of balance, the force that can bring peace. I know the difference now. I can see all the paths instead of just one. And you do, too."

She did not know how to respond. Instead she simply sipped her tea. The silence was becoming more comfortable, filled with something: not just the absence of speech, rather something more, the change eluded her still. They drank tea for some time. If her cup got empty Korra was ready to fill it up without fail. She did not know how much time has passed until the Avatar spoke again.

"I would like to keep coming to talk to you, if you don't mind. Would that be okay, Kuvira?"

The sound of her own name made her flinch. The Avatar should not have to address her like that. Like she cares, really cares. And what if she does? The metalbender was perched on her chair with one leg on the seat and one arm hugging it. She could not bring herself to look at the southern native, she was squinting and inspecting the scratches she left on the wooden wall this morning. Hesitating for a moment she nodded. There was a sigh for the other end of the table and the woman seated there stood up.

"I will visit next week. Promise."

"Whatever you say."

It came out more hollow and doubting than Kuvira wanted, or did it only sounded that way to her? Finally taking a cautious look at the tanned woman she did not see any hostility. There was a strange expression in those clear blue eyes. It could not be... relief? The Avatar nodded to her and walked out taking the kettle, but not the smell of hot tea with her. Just as she was about to venture out of the earshot, Kuvira uttered not looking at the woman. This time her voice was stained, unsure, but the words were genuine.

"Thank you for the tea."

The Avatar glanced back. She did not smile, only her bright blue eyes twinkled a bit. She picked up her pace and left the prisoner in her solitude. The guards locked the door leaving Kuvira in the twilight. She did not want to light the crystal, it was better to sit in the dark right now. The far light outside her barred window painted the floor with bleary lines and straight shadows.

She did not believe her. Not the first time, not the second. But at one point she had to. Weeks changed. The Avatar was returning to her every time, as promised. Korra, she... That girl somehow understood. Saw her better than she did herself. Was the concern of the Avatar, the most powerful entity in the world, her freely offered friendship where in her place Kuvira would've only seen hatred and resentment, was she even deserving of such a thing? No. Kuvira was sure Su and the Beifongs hated her and rightfully so. All the people she hurt... And yet Korra wanted to keep coming, keep talking to her. The dark haired woman caught herself conflicted at the thought. Korra being nice and understanding to her did not make any sense.

Maybe, that was the point. Waiting for her to arrive, seeing the understanding in the Avatar, at some point possibly even forgiveness... and fully realizing that she did not deserve it. Not in any way, not one bit of it.

Perhaps, _that_ was her penance.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: ** Hey, sorry for the late update, I was incredibly busy for a while. A warning before you get started: This story is going to be getting much darker before it gets better. It's necessary to flesh out the character development and backgrounds that were not really made clear in the show. Specifically, this chapter features the chaos of interregnum after the Queen's death, dead and dying people, including one/two children. It is not overly graphic, but it is absolutely heartbreaking, be warned.

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><p>Chapter Two<p>

_Imprisoned, Two Months, Three Days. _

Days passed by, weeks replaced weeks and nothing changed for the weary prisoner in her solitary hut. Meals were delivered on time, White Lotus guards remained disinterested and unapproachable; cycle of slightly different lighting in the underground cavern to signify day and night and the platinum cage – the ever persistent view out the window of her wooden cabin.

The time seemed to stand still for the former soldier. She supposed it will be like that for the rest of her days. The same dull routine. Get up, go take a shower under surveillance of a female guard, receive her morning meal, eat it barely noticing the bland taste. Start her morning work out routine. Read a bit. Repeat the bending forms ad nauseam even though she'd never actually would or could use her bending in here. Eat another meal, do the stretching and breathing conditioning exercises. Read some more while eating dinner. The same dull activities from waking to falling asleep. Perhaps, one day she might even loose her mind from the endless repetition of fruitless futility. Perhaps, but not any time soon. Kuvira did not really know why she bothered, but she kept track of days carving a tiny mark on the far wooden wall with the end of her just as wooden spoon.

Three days out of seven she would dance instead of keeping up with her bending. How bitterly ironic it had turned out to be. During the last two years she rarely danced for herself outside of necessary practice that had long since became like a second nature to Kuvira. She used to think there was no time for dancing. The people of the Earth Kingdom depended on her, there was always so much to do. Looking back dancing was one of the first things she had discarded in her blind rush for safety and security. At least now Kuvira had all the time in the world, ain't that right? Another pinch of bitterness.

The Avatar kept coming every week. That somehow, out of some inscrutable reason, became routine as well. Korra would show up every Saturday like clockwork with that same kettle and her tea. They did not talk much. Honestly, the former soldier did not really know what they could talk about. Korra did not seem to be all that interested in scrutinizing her decisions or even her past. She was never judgmental or pushy for... well, anything, really. The best attempt at holding a conversation the short haired girl had offered was small talk about how the weather had been warm and the reconstruction was going really well. Predominately they just sat there sipping hot tea in an oddly companionable silence.

It was rather pleasant, unnervingly so. As if to reaffirm her fears Kuvira caught herself looking forward to those visits. At least, that was one person she could be in a company of aside from the pointedly indifferent guards. It was strange, unsettling. Wanting more and despising herself for it. Deep down she dreaded what this logic-defying connection the Avatar was insisting on perpetuating would bring to the both of them in the end.

They were sipping Jasmine tea from the wooden cups, the heat of the liquid radiating easily through the pliable material. Unlike usually the silence was less that comfortable. The water tribe girl had been slightly fidgeting in her seat ever since she sat down. Korra kept looking into her tea and likely thought the woman opposite was oblivious to her less than cheery mood.

"What is it, Avatar? You don't seem to be in high spirits today. Finally decided I'm not worth the effort, huh?"

Korra's cerulean eyes snapped to her face in a second. Somehow Kuvira just knew right away that those bright, intense eyes could see right through her nonchalance in that moment. She averted her eyes concentrating on her teacup. The battle raging withing her was confusing and contradicting. She wanted Korra to keep coming and she wanted her to stop; she wanted her to be done with the hated, tyrannical Great Uniter and she wanted the Avatar to stay, sit opposite and drink that stupid tea. The older brunette wanted to be left to carry on her punishment on her own, as it should be, and yet... if Korra stopped coming... that would be... she would be...

Before the frantic thought could finally come together behind the detached exterior of Kuvra's features, the Avatar spoke. Korra's voice was soft and hesitant, almost apologetic.

"I... I'm going to be out of town for a while. Wu has started his initiative of transitioning the Earth Kingdom from monarchy to a coalition of independent states. It will require a mediator and, um, that would be me. I have to make sure everything is alright. And it will take a lot to sort everything out. So..." she gave her a sheepish smile. "I won't be able to visit you for some time, sorry."

Kuvira's pupils widened and eyes narrowed in bewilderment. "Why are you... humm... Nevermind."

"Why am I apologizing?" prompted the tanned girl her smile growing slightly. "I promised I would continue coming here. I hate breaking my word."

"It's fine. You are the Avatar, you belong to the world. I'm not... I don't..." the metalbender sighed annoyed at herself with that sudden inability to articulate properly. "The people of the Earth Emp... Citizens of the Earth Kingdom will have the protection and the wisdom of the Avatar. That is more than I could have ever given them."

"Wisdom, huh? Riiiight. You have gone form underestimating me to overestimating me, Kuvira. I'm not infallible, far from it." Korra hummed under her breath for a while looking at the spot on the far wall. Then she put a hand on her neck appearing apprehensive. "Listen, the thing is, I'll be far away, but that doesn't mean I'll be gone gone, you know? Would it be okay if I write to you?"

"What?" The southern native had an amazing habit of taking the older woman by surprise.

"You see, when I was healing at the south pole, all those two and a half years, my friends have been writing me letters. It was nice to keep receiving them. I... I only answered once. I wrote a letter to Asami and it, I dunno, made everything better, more bearable. I thought I could write to you and you could write me back while I'm gone."

Kuvira chuckled darkly. "They will never let me have a pen."

"Nonsense. Will you try to escape using a pen? That even sounds crazy!"

"No. However, I highly doubt anyone would believe me, whatever I were to say."

"_I_ believe you."

There was another minute of heavy yet comfortable silence. The metalbender, once powerful and feared leader, was suspiciously interested in the contents of her wooden cup. They did not say another word to each other during that visit, not that it was all that needed. The next day the Avatar was already on her way out of the City and later that evening a somber looking White Lotus elder delivered paper, envelops, inc and a Future Industries fountain pen to the utterly disbelieving prisoner in her wooden cell.

**. . .**

_Imprisoned, Two Months, Eight Days._

The nightmares started a week into her third month. Kuvira had not had a single dream ever since the battle of the Republic City. Her sleep was dreamless, if a bit restless. However, that first night interrupted by unsettling visions was nothing short of excruciating.

It was all jumbled up, real memories, shadows of her deepest pain and fear, all smashed and tied up together in a slurry of searingly realistic scenes. She was there and she wasn't. Sometimes Kuvira knew she was just sleeping, sometimes it felt too much like the real thing, but even when she _knew_ she could not shake it. She could not simply wake up.

Ba Sing Se was burning. The middle ring engulfed in uncontrollable madness of fire, explosions, screaming of trapped innocents who refused to leave their homes and insane roars of the looting, pillaging mob. By the time Metal Clan had arrived there was barely anything left of the lower ring, ash and smoke rising from it like a black tapestry of chaos. The Queen's military forces were all but extinct, most of them actually joined in the anarchy of the interregnum. Restoring order was not an easy task, certainly not for the faint of heart, but that was exactly why they had arrived. It had to start at Ba Sing Se, precisely where it began.

Days and nights spend fighting the crazed people, putting out fires and futile attempts to restore electricity, fresh water reserves and food deliveries. Kuvira had worked her men and women to the limit not separating herself in any way, on the contrary. She took the most shifts, stayed up the longest hours. Taking on patrol duty in the lower rings in hopes of finding survivors was the toughest task and one she took upon herself most of the time.

The previously relatively clean and well kept streets of the middle ring were more like a labyrinth of burned and collapsed buildings, trash and forgotten belongings littering the mud and ash covered stone pavings. In a small alley to the left of her there was a simple cart, once filled with fresh fruit and homemade juice, now what was left of its offerings was either burned to a crisp or rotting in a soggy, stinking mess. Even in her deluded dream-state Kuvira knew what she was about to find, she remembered that moment. The moment she knew she had to do whatever it takes to put the Earth Kingdom back together. Back three years ago she walked behind that very same cart and saw what she could not ever forget.

Behind a cart on the ground there were two bodies huddled together. A middle-aged man dressed in laborer's attire. He was most likely the owner of the cart. There was barely anything recognizable left about his face or upper torso. The fire had taken care of that. He lay there clinging to the wreck of what was likely to have been his livelihood, a charred hand clasped on the equally charred wheel. His other hand was clutching at the burned knife hilt, the blade still lodged deep in his abdomen. The brown and maroon covering his hips and legs painted the grim story of what had happened. The merchant was attacked by the looters, robbed, stabbed, his cart broken and left there in the street only to bleed to death.

Still, it was not this undeniably tragic picture that made the younger Kuvira of three years ago collapse to her knees and break down crying. It was the second little body coiled next to the man. A little girl, no more than ten, was curled close to the man's side. She did not look injured, but the ashen face was enough to know. The girl had soft blond locks, for some cruel reason untouched by the fire, light teal dress was probably one of her best ones and the little straw doll she had by her side would be her best friend. The small hands were clutching at the maroon smeared robe of the man with desperate strength. There were lines on the tender, scrunched up face, lines left from the tears and the soot and the ash. The traces on the ground around, footsteps made by the tiny sandals the girl wore. She had found her father here and after endless attempts at waking him up, after what must have felt like eternity of crying and screaming and tugging at the man, she gave up. Curled next to him, clutched her doll and the fabric of the man's robe. The girl had suffocated in the toxic fumes of the endlessly roaring fires.

That was what Kuvira had found back then, that was what she had vowed not to let ever happen again. And that was what she expected to see even in the delirious state of her nightmare.

But it wasn't what she saw.

There were two bodies at the broken wheel of the cart, charred and clutching to one another. A man and a woman. Both unrecognizable, their bodies mangled and burned and horrifying. There was a girl sobbing next to the couple. Holding the straw doll close to her chest and tugging at the remains of the woman's dress. Her hair was not blond... It was dark black pulled neatly into two short braids. She was kneeling at the cart ruining her pretty green dress with the mud and rotting fruits. Her little hand tirelessly tugged at the fabric crumpling the crust of dried up brown blood that it had been soaked with through and through.

"Momma! Papa!" the breaking cry was muffled by another set of violent sobs sending shudders along the small body.

This was all wrong! The metalbender stepped closer her boots crunching on the gravel. The girl turned around and looked straight at Kuvira. Her little face was covered with tears and smudges of ash, there were a couple of small cuts the same as on her arms. She ran here, as fast as she could apparently falling more than once along the way. The child would be adorable if not for the look of absolute misery and unbearable trauma on her face. Thin lips curled, green eyes unfocused, red and full of tears, lavish eyebrows knotted together in desperation. The tears flowed freely down to her puffy cheeks... and over the small mole under one of her eyes.

"_Oh, no... Spirits, no... This is not what happened!"_

The girl bawled on and the woman opposite was frozen in horror unable to move or speak. All she could do was watch as the little girl, the tiny version of herself shuddered and sobbed like her whole world was shattered in front of her eyes. The tugs on the dress became slower, weaker, her breathing faltered, instead of unrestrained sobs the girl was desperately trying to take in a heaving breath and could not. The air around them was filled with smoke and swirling ash. The little girl was loosing her balance. She let out a smothered sigh and crawled closer to her parents. With one last effort she settled in-between their remains and hugged the doll closer to her chest. Two more tiny breaths and she stilled. The picture of a little girl lying next to unrecognizable bodies, smoke and ash in the air, burning wreckage of the fruit cart – the scene was a brutal hit on the senses in it's surreal, morbid beauty.

Kuvira straightened, whipped around on her heels and... _ran_. Ran through the smoke and bellowing flames of the suddenly alive with screaming city, through the angular, uneven streets with odd curves and sharp turns. The people in the windows were all dead, they had injuries, burns and did not breathe and yet they were screaming after her. Screaming for her to protect them, to save them. But all she did was run. Run until there was nowhere to run anymore.

The street was barricaded shut. Mob of snarling looters and anarchists was on the other side, bellowing and yelling their curses. She remembered this well. It was one of the attempts to throw the enormous city into chaos again. Those bandits brought benders with them, ammunition and fuel to set the upper ring ablaze. Although, last time she was not alone.

In answer to that reflective thought a group of metalbenders sprang out of the shadows and took positions at her sides. Her fellow guards from Zaofu! Now that was a different story altogether!

"We're with you, Captain!" the young cheery voice belonged to Maya, a good friend and a partner. In guard duties and dancing routines.

A smile was just about to erupt on her lips as the smell of something awful and the shadow cast from above pulled her at attention. Kuvira yelled for attention and jumped away, but it was too late. The tens of bottles filled up with flammable fuel were soaring through the air and landing near her comrades. Most were lucky to dodge, zip away with their metal lines. One was not.

Three full bottles hit Maya's metal armor shattering and soaking the bender in amber liquid. She spun her cables in the rush to get away, but the streaks of fire were already on their way from the firebenders. Explosion of roaring flames in the middle of the street was massive, the fireball bloomed even dismantling the barricade in its wake. Kuvira lunged herself at the spot the other metalbender stood only a moment ago, she was being held in place by two of her men.

"_No! Not again! Stop it! Maya!"_

Kuvira woke up from a scream, she could hear the younger woman screaming. Maya's death should have been instantaneous, there was no way she could howl like that, and still she heard her last, torturous scream! She bolted upright feeling the sheets damp with her sweat. Her trembling hands moved to her face and found her mouth agape. Cold sweat was trickling down the sides of her face. There was no one in her room, the guards only now moving to see what was going on. Kuvira could see the waving lights coming closer. The scream that woke her up was real, not a part of her nightmare; it could not have been made by Maya nor by anyone else in this room or outside of it. None of the guards could let out that icy, terrifying sound.

The one who was screaming was _her_.


End file.
